When Country Meets Human
by Starclone
Summary: A set of one-shots where certain countries have fallen in love with humans. They aren't anybody important, they don't resemble historical figures, they are ordinary people that have fallen in love with nations.
1. America and Madison

"Madison, you can't go!" America shouted while following the slender brunette. Her hair was cropped short and she wore a flannel shirt and denim Capri's with high-tops. When she turned around to face him, Madison's warm brown eyes were hard and focused.

"Alfred, I already told you that I have to go. This is something I have to do."

"No, you don't." America grabbed her arm and pulled her closer. She dropped her duffel bag and placed both of her hands on his chest. Sometimes stubbornness ran high in both of their personalities, which could be very frustrating. But most of the time it translated into severe loyalty. That's what had drawn America and Madison together, and what had kept them with each other for three whole years. But now Madison was joining the military. America already feared the worst.

"Yes I do. Alfred, this is what I want. A chance to make a difference…to matter."

"You matter to me! I just don't want to risk losing you, Madison." He gazed tenderly into her eyes as he felt his own fill with tears. _Oh great, _he thought, _the hero is crying. What else could go wrong?_ Madison stood on tiptoe on gave America a kiss on the lips. "You won't lose me Alfred. You'll just miss me." She picked up her duffel bag and walked toward the car. She turned around one more time to look at America. He smiled, waved, and walked back to the house. When he turned back, the car, and his whole world, were gone.

_She'll be back,_ he thought. She always came back.


	2. England and Gwendolyn

England started his day like any other day. He made breakfast, read the newspaper, and got ready to go to work. He arrived at the palace and sat down at his desk. Most days of the week he sat there pushing a pencil around unless the queen wanted to address a special issue. But no such luck today. He left the building at six o'clock sharp and stepped into the rain awaiting him. Thankfully Britain always had an umbrella.

He casually walked down the street, chuckling when he saw a pedestrian hurriedly run for cover from the deluge. His phone rang in his pocket; there was a text from China letting him know there would be a meeting next week in Beijing. After pocketing the phone, England rounded the corner. Suddenly he collided with somebody who seemed to have come out of nowhere. The other person fell to the ground, and England's umbrella flew from his hand. "Hey! Watch where you're-"he turned to rebuke whoever ran into him, but to his surprise it was a woman, probably in her mid-twenties. She had bright red hair which fell around her shoulders in slight curls. It took England to a minute to register that she was crying.

Quickly taking action, he helped her to her feet. "I'm so sorry miss; I didn't mean to yell at you." She sniffled and looked at England. Her eyes were a deep blue, the edges red from the tears. Shaking her head she stooped back down to pick up bag she had dropped, along with all the items that fell from it.

"It's alright. I'm not crying because you yelled." She finished re-packing the small bag and stood.

"Why were you crying then?"

"My boyfriend kicked me out." She looked at ground again. England noticed bruises on her arms and along her jaw. He picked up the umbrella from the ground and held it over her. She looked at England, and said, "I'm sorry I bumped into you." Her shoulders shook and she began crying silently again. England gently wiped the tears away. They stood in the rain for a moment longer before he offered his arm.

"Miss, I think it would be to your benefit if you came to my house for a cup of tea." She paused, and then linked her arm around his. They began walking down the street. It was only a couple of blocks to England's house. It was a Victorian style house, painted light blue with delicate white trim on the windows and edges of the roof. In front of the house was a small lawn whose only decoration was a stone fountain with fairies carved into it. The two walked up the steps to the door and entered the house. England returned the umbrella to its stand by the door. The woman stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. England sat her down on the couch and wrapped a quilt around her. "I'll get that tea started," he said.

"Thank you, sir."

"You can call me Arthur. I don't think I got your name."

"Gwendolyn," she replied. England nodded and walked to the kitchen to make some tea. He returned with two porcelain cups. He handed one to Gwendolyn and then sat down next to her. She slowly sipped her tea while England studied her again. She wasn't quite beautiful, but she was rather striking. Then he saw the bruises again.

"Gwendolyn did your boyfriend….treat you well?" he asked. She looked at him with some confusion. He nodded at the bruises, and her face fell slightly.

"He said he loved me when we first met. But once we started living together, he started drinking. He still told me he loved me, but I didn't believe it. Yesterday I came home late and he started yelling at me….he…." Gwendolyn started crying again, and again England wiped away the tears. He tilted her chin up to face him. His mouth curved into a gentle, comforting smile.

"Don't worry about him anymore," he said, "You'll be safe here." Gwendolyn set her cup down and wrapped her arms around England. "Thank you Arthur," she whispered. England slowly returned the embrace, stroking her hair and feeling something he hadn't felt in a long time.


End file.
